


If You Were My Girlfriend, I'll Never Let You Go

by Foreverlarrup



Category: One Direction, X-Factor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-28
Updated: 2012-06-28
Packaged: 2017-11-08 18:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foreverlarrup/pseuds/Foreverlarrup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam, Harry, and Louis are drinking to... something all night. And Zayn's dying to figure it out, he really is.</p>
<p>Then he finds out and wishes he hadn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Were My Girlfriend, I'll Never Let You Go

They're at Liam's place (more like his and Louis and Harry's place, now that the three of them started to fuck around with each other), the four of them sprawled out in the living room, alcohol bottles cluttering the carpeted ground and a Disney movie playing on the flatscreen. There's vodka poured neatly into shot glasses on the coffee table, and Zayn scowls at them, mentally knocking them over and sloshing the liquid onto the ground.

 

He knows what the tiny cups mean. Whenever there is alcohol involved with the five of them, Harry and Louis would play a game where they would take a shot each time something happened. One time it was every time Liam mentioned his break-up with Danielle, another was each time Zayn glanced into the mirror tacked on wall in his room, and once it was every time Niall laughed (they got drunk off their asses that time). They wouldn't stop until someone guessed what they were drinking too, and Zayn would never admit it to anyone, but it always kind of made him feel lonely and out of the loop, not being included in their silly games.

 

He watches the way Liam leans into Louis's side and speaks softly into his ear, fingers curled comfortably around the older boy's knee, and he hates the way it feels like he's intruding on something private.

 

He pulls his mobile out of his pocket and flips it in the air, wondering if it was too much to send a text to Niall to ask him to hurry up. He wasn't sure if there was a new set of rules now that Niall was frequenting his bed, or were they just like before, only now with fucking added in.

 

He hears Louis giggle at Liam's whispered words and watches him use his arm to pull Harry closer to the two of them. The three of them exchange hushed words and give furtive glances at Zayn, and he has to resist the urge to pout. Now Liam's in on their little game too, and it's just going to be Zayn and Niall left clueless.

 

“Who are you texting?” Harry asks, attempting to be casual but Zayn knows him too well, recognizes the glint in his eyes.

 

“Niall,” Zayn decides, tapping out his text. Pls hurry, others are annoying xx. He glances up in time to see his other band mates sucking down shots. So it begins, he thinks grimly.

 

“Aw,” Louis throws an arm around Zayn's shoulders. “Lonely without your boyfriend?”

 

Zayn flushes a light pink and shrugs off Louis's arm. “No,” he mumbles, reaching out for a shot of his own. “We're not like that,” he tells them, wincing against the burn of the cheap alcohol.

 

Louis opens his mouth and Liam and Harry hiss out shushes, and Zayn feels even more confused.

 

He sends another desperate text to Niall.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

 

“I'm here!” Niall says dramatically, throwing the door to Liam's apartment open, and he's met with cheers and a noisy “Don't be so loud!” from Liam, whose eyes are focused on Simba singing about becoming a king.

 

Niall makes a face a Liam's words and shrugs off his coat. He grabs a beer and snuggles warmly next to Zayn on the couch. “Hey,” He says quietly, and hesitates a bit before pecking Zayn on the cheek.

 

“Aw, how cute,” Louis says obnoxiously, passing shot glasses to Harry and Liam. “You guys just warm my heart.” He tilts the cup up above his mouth and most of the vodka misses its mark and spills all over his shirt and chin. “Just precious,” he tells them, ignoring the way Harry uses his tongue to lap up the spilled liquid off his neck.

 

“You guys are disgusting,” Zayn says, curling his arm comfortably around Niall.

 

\--------------------------------------------------

 

Harry, Louis, and Liam are getting tipsier and giving ridiculous hints about what they're drinking to (“It's about you twats!”, “It has something to do with sex!”, “It's really easy to get, I swear!”), but Zayn still can't figure out what they're taking shots on. He's asked Niall if he knew, but Niall just shrugged and told him that he didn't care about why they were taking shots; it was just fun to watch them get smashed.

 

Zayn was starting to see what he meant (it was a lot more fun drinking and making fun of how Liam is quietly saying the lines along with the movie, then it was mentally dissecting the reasons behind every drink they took), but then Niall offered to get Zayn a beer and the three boys took another shot, laughing gleefully.

 

And Zayn's dying to figure out why, he really is.

 

\--------------------------------------------

 

“Okay, okay,” Louis says, clapping his hands together for attention. The end credits of The Lion King roll down the screen, and Zayn was just wondering if it would be rude to sneak out for a smoke. “Truth or dare, Niall?” Louis exchanges glances with Liam and Harry, lips curving up at the corners.

 

Zayn groans out loud. “Is this about your stupid shot game?”

 

“Shh!” Harry hisses on the single raised finger to his lips. “Don't give it away,” he says, voice solemn and serious.

 

Zayn gives him a look.

 

“So, truth or dare, Nialler?” Louis says after a moment of silence.

 

Niall tilts his head and scrunches up his eyebrows. “Truth... no, wait, dare.” He nods affirmatively. “Yeah, dare.”

 

Liam giggles and leans into Louis, unnecessarily sliding his hand up Louis's thigh. He whispers something into his ear, and the two of them giggle like schoolgirls for a couple seconds. Harry frowns and scoots closer to Louis's side.

 

“I'll go get it,” Liam dashes out of the room, almost tripping over his two feet

 

“Niall, Niall, we've got a good dare here,” Louis tells him, and Zayn wonders if he should be worried for his (not-)boyfriend.

 

“And remember you can't back out,” Harry reminds him right when Liam comes back into the room, a pile of poofy fabric bunched in his arms.

 

“What's that?” Zayn asks, but then Liam flaps out the pink fabric, and it drops down, revealing a long, flowy, material.

 

“It's a dress! You have to put it on!” Louis cackles, and Harry has to clap his hands over his mouth to cover his ridiculous sounding laughter.

 

Niall raises an eyebrow and pulls the hem of the dress down so it falls from Liam's grip and into his lap. The dress is plain, cut simply with only a bit of red lace peeking out from where a girl's cleavage should be, and the waist is large enough that a boy would fit into it.

 

“Wait. Why do you have a dress in your house?” Niall asks, smoothing out the hem of the dress.

 

“Uh-” Harry starts, but Louis cuts in smoothly and says, “It's one of Eleanor's old dresses- she didn't like it enough to keep it, I guess.”

 

But Harry's mildly guilty look and Liam's sheepish one tells them that there's more to the story. Zayn doesn't bother to hide his snicker.

 

“Well, go on then, young padawan,” Louis says after a few beats. “Put on the dress!”

 

Niall just frowns and squeezes the front of the dress. “Oh my go- why is it padded in the front?”

 

“To hold up boobs, Nialler,” Louis says patiently, as if Niall actually didn't know.

 

“But Harry doesn't have any boobs,” Zayn comments, smirking at Harry's horrified screech.

 

“We didn't- I don't-” Harry stammers for a bit. “Oh, whatever,” He grumbles, lips twisted in a pout. “Put on the dress, Niall.”

 

Niall shrugs and peels off his shirt. He tosses it to the side and accidentally smacks Liam in the face.

 

“Ew,” Liam says mildly. He folds the shirt and places it next to him, making Harry cheekily mumble “Daddy Direction.”

 

Niall slips the dress over his head, and it's a bit of a struggle to get the waistline pass his shoulders before he finally notices the zipper on the side, but eventually it settles on his body.

 

They all stare at him for a long minute. The fabric of the dress is rumpled by his legs, where his jeans are still on, and the front of the dress sags unattractively. Niall shifts around uncomfortably, making the dress rustle noisily.

 

“Well.” Harry says, crossing his arms. “For a sub, you don't wear a dress very well.” He says this as if it personally offends him.

 

“Sorry,” Niall shrugs at the same time Zayn goes,” What do you mean by sub?” He wrinkles his nose.

 

The other three boys exchange glances, and Louis slaps a belated hand over Harry's face, mostly covering his left cheek instead of his mouth.

 

“He didn't mean anything by it,” Liam says unconvincingly. “Plus, a sub is a really poor noun for what Niall is. He's more like a...” Liam squints his eyes. “Like a girlfriend. Or a uke.” There's a pause. “I have no idea what that word means, I swear.”

 

“Way to give away the game,” Louis mumbles, nudging Liam's shoulder, “Noob.”

 

“Wait a second-” It all starts to click together in Zayn's head. All the drinks they took, all the unsubtle nudges and winks- oh. They were implying that Niall was Zayn's girlfriend. But if they meant that, then they also meant-

 

“What do you mean by girlfriend though?” Niall's asking, rumpling up his dress as he slumps down next to Zayn.

 

Then they also meant...

 

Zayn's eyes widen.

 

“We meant that you're the, you know,” Liam makes a motion with his hand that could mean anything. “You know,” He says again when he's only met with blank stares, making the same useless gesture.

 

Louis sighs, pushes Liam's hands down. “What he means is, Zayn's the ice cream, and Niall's the cone.”

 

“Uh...” Niall looks even more lost, and Zayn really wants this conversation to end.

 

“So who wants one more shot?” Zayn says desperately, splashing vodka on his fingers when he grabs the bottle.

 

“Oh, Niall,” Harry says. “You know, you're the bottom. He's the top.”

 

“Here, shots for everyone!” Zayn tries to pour vodka in all the shot glasses with one smooth swoosh, and succeeds only in getting the coffee table sticky wet and a miniscule amount of liquid in each cup.

 

“But that doesn't make sense,” Niall says, almost to himself.

 

The whole room turns to face him anyways. Zayn feels his eyes getting wider and wider, head shaking no no no.

 

“I mean, I'm not the one who bot-” Niall lifts his head and notices the way everyone's staring at him intensely. “Uh.”

 

“You're not the bottom?” Liam bursts out. “Zayn is?”

 

“I am not,” Zayn lies, flushing red under his dark complexion.

 

“You fucking are,” Harry breaths out, incredulous. “Wow. And with Niall, too.”

 

“Hey!” Niall protests, picking up one of the shot glasses. “I'm a perfectly good top, thank you very much.” He curls his lips around the cup, only to realize that it's empty. “And Zayn has a great ass, so obviously he's the bottom.”

 

“Niall!” Zayn whirls his head toward him.

 

“What?” Niall shrugs. “It's the truth.”

 

“Cockslut,” Louis chuckles under his breath.

 

Zayn scowls. “Like you're one to talk,” He retorts, standing up a bit unsteadily. “I'm out of here,” He mumbles, grabbing his coat. He can hear Harry's faint voice, saying “He's such a drama queen, I can't believe we never caught on be-” Zayn slams the door close.

 

\----------------------------------------------------

 

He stands in the hallway, unsure of his next move. He wants to go home, but he kind of feels like he'll throw up if he doesn't sit down. So he slumps down on the tilted ground, head lolling against the wall, fingers fumbling for his cigarette pack.

 

The door clicks open and Niall's head pokes out. “Zayn?”

 

Zayn waves a hand, pulling out a cigarette with his other.

 

Niall closes the door behind him and gingerly sits next to Zayn. “Are you mad?” He asks quietly.

 

There's a pause. “No,” Zayn says, flicking on his lighter. “It's the truth after all.”

 

“They're not going to make fun of you or anything,” Niall reassures him hastily. “I'm sure they all have bottomed for each other at least once.”

 

Zayn blows out and attempts a ring but a tremble of smoke come out instead.

 

“And it's not like it's anything to be ashamed of.” Niall says, voice earnest.

 

Zayn shrugs, doesn't meet Niall's eyes. “Just kinda new at this whole being gay thing, you know?” He laughs a bit shakily. “Me two years ago would freak at just the thought of sleeping with a guy, much more at being fucked by one.” He sucks on his cigarette, exhales slow and soft. “And maybe it still kind of freaks me out, that like I'm, um.” He stops and smokily breaths out.

 

“I could be the one bottoming, if you want,” Niall suggests, leaning back on the wall.

 

“Um, no, I'm good with what we have right now,” Zayn mumbles, trying to fight off his blush. “I don't know, it's just so strange to like, actually be having sex with a guy. And to actually like guys.” He shifts around uncomfortably. “I didn't know that I even did, until I, um-” he swallows, fidgets his fingers across the ground and glances up at Niall. “Until I met you.”

 

Niall's smiling, a corner of his lower lip tucked into his mouth in a poor attempt not to. “I'm glad you did,” he admits, before leaning in and pressing his lips against Zayn's.

 

Zayn gasps hotly into his mouth, fingers automatically reaching up to curl around Niall's hair, their noses bumping into each other.

 

Niall makes a small sound and slides into Zayn's lap to get a better angle, nipping at Zayn's tongue.

 

They kiss aggressively for a few minutes, hands tucking under waistbands and stuttering hips.

 

Zayn pulls back, breathing hotly into Niall's mouth. “I'm sorry if you thought that I didn't like having sex earlier, when Louis and them were playing their stupid game, because I do like sex with you, I really really do,” Zayn's rambling, but Niall's smiling at him, all fond and happy, so he lets himself mumble incoherent words about how much he likes Niall, and sex with Niall.

 

“Want to show me how much you like it?” Niall says cheekily, pushing himself off Zayn's lap and into a standing position, a hand reaching down to help Zayn up.

 

Zayn smiles and lets himself fall completely.


End file.
